Mind made up, Ewan wrapped his kilt about his waist and donned a shirt, then stepped out into the corridor, intent on making his way to his study and his decided course of action. He was halfway there when a slight figure turned the corner and came to a stop in front of him. Ewan’s hand was halfway to his sword when he realized who it was.
Grace. She was wrapped in a thick over-robe, carrying a candle in one hand and a book in the other. Ewan relaxed, something in his chest loosening at the sight of her. “Grace.”
“Ewan.” She tugged the robe a little closer with the fingers of one hand, a slight blush on her cheeks. “I could not sleep, so I thought a walk and a bit of reading…”
“Ye’re nae the only strugglin’.” Ewan smiled ruefully. “I couldnae rest meself. I was on me way tae me study, if ye’d care tae join me.”
A small, teasing smile curled her mouth. “Only if you are sure your Council will not object.”
“They willnae.” Ewan smiled back, and the two of them walked the rest of the way in companionable silence.
Inside the study, Ewan poked the fire back up. Grace solemnly handed him a smaller piece of wood, and the two of them shared a smile. “Ye remember.”
“Of course.” Grace settled into a chair while he finished building the embers back to a respectable blaze. It was only when he’d settled into his own chair that she spoke again. “I thought the meeting this morn went well, but I could not be sure.”
“It went well enough. They’re nae screamin’ fer me tae get rid o’ ye and send ye packin’.” Ewan shrugged. “They’ll nae be any trouble, at least nae on that front.”
An’ ye’ll nae stay long enough for it tae matter whether they like ye or nae. The thought stung more than it should have, and Ewan made an effort to dismiss it. “Did ye write yer letter tae Niamh?”
“I did. And Master Devlin sent it off with a messenger. After that, I spent the day admiring your gardens, and exploring the castle. It is…I t is not much like my uncle’s estate at all.”
“Nae a surprise. Scottish keeps and castles are built tae withstand everything, from wild weather tae wars. They’re built as strong and sturdy as the rocky hills an’ moors we build on.”
“So I see. And yet… it is a beautiful country, and a beautiful keep. The woodlands and cliffs nearby are fascinating.”
“Ye’ll see more o’ them when we travel tae MacDuff Castle. An’ if ye like, perhaps I’ll show ye some o’ the places me braither an’ I love tae ride in, the lochs and streams we grew up explorin’. If ye’re o’ a mind.”
“I am certain I would enjoy such an adventure. And there is sure to be time, since I shall be here until Niamh delivers her babe.”
“Aye. At least half a season, says Catriona, though any bairn will come when it chooses, be it early, on time, or late.” He paused. “I dinnae ken the customs o’ childbirth in the Lowlands, or England, but here among members o’ the MacDuff Clan an’ our kinfolk, ‘tis custom fer the maither tae be supported by her gathered kith an’ kin when the time comes. Niamh will have ye, an’ me cousin, but also several o’ her other kin, from her maither’s branch o’ the family. An’ those womenfolk o’ the castle who are experienced in the matter.”
“Then it is good that I have time to meet them, before the babe is born, provided it is not born tomorrow.”
“Aye.” The silence fell again, quiet and companionable as it had been in the long nights of travel. Ewan found himself relaxing into the warmth of the fire and Grace’s soft, easy presence at his side. The restlessness that had plagued him eased, soothed by the companionship.
He was drifting into a quiet haze of thoughtfulness when a thin, whistling sound, just on the edge of his hearing, cut through the night.
Someone screamed, and Ewan was halfway out of his chair even before he heard warning bell and the words the sentry shouted a moment later. “We’re under attack! Man the walls, we’re under attack!”
—
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